A Week in the Life
by smilelikey0umeanit
Summary: It's audit week, and Strickland is away, so Sandra is instructed to cover for him. It's boring, bureaucratic and means she can't supervise the boys, but still- how difficult could it be?
1. Chapter 1

**_A/N: Hope you enjoy this and please feel free to review. _**

**_Disclaimer: I don't own New Tricks._**

* * *

A Week in the Life

_Sunday_

_Ten a.m_

Her deep, dream-filled sleep was rudely disrupted by the shrill ringing of her phone, amplified by the deep droning sound as it vibrated against her wooden bedside table, cutting through her hazy tiredness and the hangover from hell that struck her almost as soon as she hesitantly opened her weary eyes, still smudged in yesterday's make-up and watering from the bright rays of Spring sunlight that attacked them. Her manicured hand blindly searched the table for the object, finding its target just before the noise came to an end.

"Hello?" she answered wearily, presuming it was either Brian or Jack, having not had time to check the display. They were the only people she knew who were sober enough to be up at this ridiculous hour, anyway.

"Ah, Detective Superintendent Pullman, I was hoping I'd get through to you."

She frowned, the mist of alcohol and tiredness being frustratingly slow to shift from her mind. She knew that voice though; drawly, irritating, mildly patronising. A vague memory came to her of seemingly endless meetings, the same voice droning on for what felt like hours and hours…shit. It was the Assistant Commissioner.

"Oh. Hello sir," she replied, frantically sitting up and combing the stray wisps of hair from her face as though he could somehow see her over the telephone. "What can I do for you?"

"Well, as you are probably aware, our annual audit is coming up this week, however DAC Strickland is unfortunately stuck in Italy for the foreseeable future due to the volcanic ash cloud which is preventing his scheduled flight from taking off."

She snorted. The way he had said 'unfortunately' made it sound as though Strickland wasn't the luckiest bugger on the planet. Not only was he having an extended holiday, in Italy of all places, he was missing audit week as well.

"I'm sorry to hear that, although I'm sure we'll manage perfectly well without him, sir."

"Yes, well, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. You see, DAC Strickland has six departments under his command, and his absence this week will inevitably result in a huge amount of work being missed."

She had an ominous feeling that she could already see where this was going.

"With all due respect sir, what does that have to do with me?"

"Well, Detective Superintendent, here we reach the crux of the matter. I was hoping that you would be able to take over DAC Strickland's duties, just for a week." He announced, clearly aware that she would not be best pleased, and bracing himself for the oncoming storm.

She closed her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose, never wanting to open them again. She'd presumed that the heads of all six of the departments would chip in, not just her. How the hell was she expected to oversee six departments, do Strickland's work, make sure her own boys were doing the audit by the book and help them with it?

"How am I expected to take on all this extra work when I have my own department's audit to conduct? More's to the point, why is it just me? Couldn't one of the other Detective Superintendents help?"

"I'm sorry Sandra, but I had to reach the decision. All the other departments have over ten personnel, whereas yours only has three, excluding yourself. Your audit shouldn't take as long as the others, so you should have free time in which to conduct the DAC's duties. Besides, you are more than capable of taking this task on, you've been offered promotion more than once and I have every faith that you can do this."

She sighed, her eyes still closed as she heard the AC turn to flattery as a persuasive method. Well, that wouldn't work, when yet again she was being punished for having a small department of retirees rather than a large one of career coppers, who were only driven by the prospect of climbing the greasy pole right to the lonely top.

"What about the other DACs?"

"Similarly, they all have their own departments to oversee. I'd like to just make this clear that this isn't a request, Detective." He said, finally resorting to bluntness.

She paused for a moment, mentally weighing up whether it was worth arguing with the older man. Eventually she decided to back down. She was tired, and Jack could always make sure that Gerry and Brian were on the right track. Besides, how difficult could paperwork be? Boring, yes, but achievable.

"Okay. I'll do it." She replied finally, yet still with an edge to her voice that conveyed she wasn't pleased at the prospect.

"Right. Good. Well, I will see you at eight thirty tomorrow morning in the DAC's office for briefing," stuttered the AC, who had clearly been expecting more resistance.

"Bright and early," she muttered as he hung up. She placed the phone back on the bedside table and let her head fall back onto the pillow. It was going to be a long week.

* * *

_Three p.m_

She'd decided to take it easy for the rest of the day in the hope that her hangover would subside, to prepare herself for the week ahead. She'd returned to sleep for another hour, had a shower and made a bacon sandwich, which had gone some way to alleviating her symptoms. As she'd watched the afternoon chick flick on the TV, she had tried to work out which other departments she would be overseeing on behalf of Strickland. CID and the murder squad were headed by other DACs, so at least that would be a weight off her shoulders. However, she had a feeling that organised crime and vice were under his remit, and perhaps the new unit related to online crimes. The annoying one that kept sending her emails reminding her to change her passwords regularly. Great.

The chick flick finished and she decided to make a few phonecalls. First on the list was Jack, who, she presumed as she scrolled to his name in her list of contacts, would find it hilarious that she had been selected to be Strickland's shoe-in.

"Hello?" he answered almost immediately.

"Jack, it's me. Listen, I've got a favour to ask you."

He chuckled. "Where have I heard that one before? Boyfriend troubles is it?"

"No, god no, nothing like that, not at my age anyway. It's about work, actually."

"Go on?"

"Well, basically, Strickland is stuck on holiday what with that volcanic ash cloud thing that's stopping all flights, and I've been asked to be his replacement for the week."

"But it's audit week." The older man replied bluntly, his mind already making an educated guess at what her 'favour' would be.

"Yeah, that's why I'm calling, really. Would you mind just overseeing the audit, keeping Tweedledum and Tweedledee on the right track this week? It's nothing major, just make sure they're doing what they're supposed to be doing. And make sure Gerry isn't fiddling his timesheets again, I could really do without a bollocking from Strickland when he gets back."

He sighed. "Yeah, alright. I'll try my best, but if Gerry says he's nipping out for a fag and doesn't come back all week, I'm not responsible. And you owe me a drink."

"Of course. I'll try my best to be there as much as possible but I've got six departments to keep an eye on and Strickland's work to do, it's bloody ridiculous." She sighed wearily, the enormity of the task ahead being reinforced.

"Why can't someone else help you out?"

"I don't know, apparently they're all too busy with their own audits, just the usual crap about us being the smallest department which somehow makes us the prime target to tidy up everyone else's mess."

"Well it's nice to know we're valued." He cracked.

"Hmm. Well I'd better get on anyway, I'll let you enjoy your weekend in peace before tomorrow. And I'll ring the troublesome two, let them know to be on their best behaviour."

"Good luck with that," he grinned as he hung up, his smile turning into a grimace as he walked over to his drinks cabinet, pouring himself a measure of whisky. He had a feeling he was going to need it.

* * *

_Nine p.m_

She'd deliberately waited until late evening to call Gerry, knowing full well that Sunday dinner with the girls would have been his main priority all afternoon. Hopefully he wasn't too drunk to listen to what she had to say. She had called Brian earlier and he'd seemed to take it on board, but then again, you could never be sure when it came to Brian. Besides, it was Gerry who led him astray most of the time. Selecting his name, she waited as the phone rung. Eventually, just as she was about to end the call, he picked up.

"Hello?" he answered cheerily. Too cheerily. He was definitely drunk.

"Gerry, it's me. Listen," she hurriedly gave the imperative before he had chance to interject with some overly happy greeting. "I was just calling to let you know that I won't be in the office much this week so I've left Jack in charge, and I want you to get your head down and do the audit as quickly as possible, alright?"

"Yeah, sure. You having a good weekend?"

"Yes, fine thank you. I take it the girls have been round for dinner?"

"Yep, they just went home now. Hang on…no, it was a couple of hours ago actually. Time must be running away with me today Guv."

"Hmm, well that's what happens when you have too much fun. Just remember what I said, okay? Best behaviour for Jack this week." She spoke slightly too slowly, as though she were speaking to a child. Still, she could be forgiven for mistaking an alcohol-filled Gerry for a child. The similarities were numerous even when he was sober.

"You've got it Guv, I won't let you down. Night." He slurred, ending the call bluntly. She simply shook her head in bewilderment at how alcohol could affect the human brain.

A cursory flick through the hundreds of useless television channels she paid for without any particular reason told her that there was nothing on worth staying up for, just endless repeats, as usual. She decided to get an early night before the oncoming storm of paperwork hit in the morning.


	2. Chapter 2

**_A/N: I'm really not keen on this part but I hope you like it! It's another one of those stories that I started before exams then had difficulty getting back into afterwards...anyway, the chapter for Friday will follow shortly :) Eden xxx_**

**_Disclaimer: I don't own New Tricks._**

_Monday_

_Eight forty-five a.m_

"So yes, that is about all really. Do feel free to call me if you need any help, which of course I'm sure you won't. Like I said yesterday Superintendent, you've proved yourself more than capable of taking on this role numerous times in the past. I have every faith that you'll ensure all your departments have their audits complete by Saturday morning at the very latest."

She mentally shook herself awake. She'd been standing there for fifteen minutes and she hadn't absorbed a word of what the Assistant Commissioner had been droning on about. Still, like she'd presumed yesterday, the job didn't seem too difficult. The deadline of Saturday morning could prove tricky if the other departments hated the audit as much as her boys did, but she could be persuasive, in more ways than one.

"Thank you, sir." She nodded, offering the falsely bright smile that she normally reserved for Strickland as he turned and left the room, closing the door politely behind him. She crossed the room to sit down in the absent DAC's black leather office chair, a similar style to her own. It didn't feel right, though. Her, sitting here in this large office, surrounded by pictures that were specifically designed to inspire creativity or whatever bollocks the management attempted in order to make their minions work harder these days.

There was even room for a sofa in the corner, without making the room look cluttered. For a moment, she wondered which direction her career would have taken if she hadn't shot that bloody dog. Naturally she would have continued to rise through the ranks, that was one of her main motivations in those days. Perhaps she would be a DAC now. Although, the administrative bureaucracy side of the Met wasn't the one she belonged on.

As she waited for someone in uniform to bring her some paperwork to fill the empty in-tray on the right-hand side of the desk, she logged on to the computer in front of her. It wasn't even nine o clock yet and already there was over twenty emails in the inbox, all from different people in different departments. She sighed, opening some at random. _'Can you sign off this paperwork?' 'Can I take a day's holiday on Wednesday?' 'Could we reschedule that meeting for next week?' _were the typical dull questions they contained.

She had an urge to just type 'Yes' in an email and send it to all of the twenty people at once, but of course she couldn't. Starting with the least recent first, wincing as more and more appeared, she slowly began to plough her way through constructing responses that didn't sound as annoyed as she felt, finding it a difficult task first thing on a Monday morning. How did Strickland cope?

* * *

_Five p.m_

Despite the busy start, the day had been unnervingly quiet since she had finished replying to the stream of emails. It had been so uneventful that she'd wondered again why she had been forced to abandon the supervision of her own audit in order to cover Strickland's duties. She was planning to see the Assistant Commissioner tomorrow morning and say that she would be capable of overseeing the DAC's duties from her own UCOS office, whilst making sure the boys were focused.

When she had visited the office earlier, as part of her walk around all the departments under her supervision, they had actually seemed to be getting on. Her conversation with Jack must have paid off, and she was surprised that her instructions to an overly tipsy Gerry had actually permeated through his thick skull and into his brain cells. Although she was sure that she had seen Jack's office golf set concealed under his desk.

* * *

_Tuesday_

_Nine a.m_

She had arrived at the office fifteen minutes ago, and already her inbox was filled with emails, although thankfully there was less than yesterday. Today she had felt more comfortable hanging up her coat on the stand in the corner and taking a seat at the polished wooden desk. It was different, sitting here, waiting for the hesitant knock on the door of someone who wanted to confess to a cock up in their department, rather than being the one who was admitting to their mistake. But whether it was a good or bad feeling, she was still uncertain.

Right on cue, there was a brief knock at the door and a young PC entered, politely closing the door behind him with a soft click. He was tall and skinny, gangly even, which gave him an air of discomfort in the black and white police uniform. He frowned, surprised to see the Detective Superintendent sat behind the desk facing him. Evidently he hadn't got the memo that she was covering for Strickland this week.

"Er, good morning ma'am, I've brought you the paperwork that the AC requested."

"Thank you." She replied, her eyes narrowing as confusion as he simply stood there, staring at her. "Where is it?"

"It's in the corridor, ma'am, I'll just go and get it." She rolled her eyes. She was never that much of an idiot when she was a PC. Where the bloody hell had he gone? She wanted a coffee. Crossing the room, she pulled open the door to find the young PC struggling to pull a trolley full of cardboard boxes into the room.

"Is that all for me?" she asked, incredulously.

"Yes, ma'am." The younger man said as he finally succeeded in heaving the boxes into the middle of the office. "Would you like them stacking in the corner?"

"No, it's fine, I'll do it." She sighed, running a hand through her hair in exasperation. "Can you get me a coffee? Black, no sugar. Please."

"Well it's not really my job…" his protest was cut off mid-sentence by the infamous death glare which the temporary DAC directed at him sharply.

"Of course ma'am, I'll bring it up right away."

* * *

_Twelve p.m_

The past three hours had been spent much like yesterday; sifting through emails, making sure all the departments were on track to finish by the end of the week. Just one of them was annoying her so far, which was a pleasant surprise. Yet today, her afternoon would be filled by checking over the five huge boxes of paperwork which had been delivered earlier by the PC, and which were still deposited unceremoniously in the centre of the room. She had been deliberately putting off opening the boxes, which explained why she was now going for lunch early, just for something to delay the arrival of the inevitable boredom that the afternoon would bring.

Just as she was about to head out, there was a knock at the office door. "Come in," she said wearily, sitting back down in her chair. It was probably another PC delivering yet more paperwork. The door opened to admit the boys, all three of them, each grinning as they saw her sat in the chair usually occupied by Strickland.

"DAC Pullman, we have come to take you for lunch," Gerry announced, adopting his best posh accent.

"Yes, to the finest restaurant in all of London, no less: the Metropolitan Police canteen, famed for its Michelin-starred food." Jack added, in a similar accent, barely able to keep a straight face.

"Does her highness have enough time to spare in her tightly packed schedule to accept our invitation?" the third of the men asked, continuing the theme.

"Only if my subjects have made sufficient progress with their task; that is, if they have completed at least a quarter of their audit." She smirked, leaning back in her chair, or throne, as the boys clearly thought it was.

"Of course, ma'am."

"Come on then, I'm bloody starving. Get me a bacon sandwich, peasants."

The men laughed in unison.

"That's our girl, not letting being a DAC go to her head."

* * *

_Four p.m _

Admittedly, she had dragged her feet when it came to lunch with the boys- neither her nor them had wanted to return to their respective offices for another afternoon of box-ticking and filing. Eventually, though, she had sent them back to the UCOS basement- she had a feeling that they hadn't made as much progress with the audit as they professed to have done, and she would be checking on them tomorrow. Once she had got back to her office, she had reluctantly begun to sort through the boxes of paperwork, and it was this task which had occupied her until now.

One thing had become clear- she wouldn't have the time to return to UCOS to supervise the boys. She had only scratched the surface of the endless paperwork despite giving it her full attention for over three hours now, and she had the heads of various departments booked in to give her a progress report throughout the next hour. So she would have to stay here, and probably until the end of the week. She'd expected it to be mind-numbingly dull, and so far, it hadn't disappointed.

* * *

_Wednesday_

_Twelve p.m._

The progress meetings with the various heads of departments had not gone well yesterday. Neither had this morning's check on how the boys were progressing. It had transpired, after over an hour of profuse apologies on her subordinate's parts, and headache-inducing shouting on hers, that it was going to involve a huge effort to get the audit finished by Friday, as most of them had only completed a third of the paperwork involved. Just to add insult to injury, the Assistant Commissioner had visited her first thing today, expecting her to pass on details of their progress to him. She had been forced to lie through her teeth, reassuring him that everyone was on track to be completed by the end of the week. She was quickly realising that it was almost impossible to deal with the constant pressure from upstairs whilst trying to sort out the mistakes and failings of six departments- she wondered how Strickland coped, and thanked her lucky stars that she would only have to see this through the week.

* * *

_Thursday_

_Five p.m._

The past two days had been a living nightmare. The AC's demands for progress updates had become even more frequent, her printer had broken down due to the sheer amount of paper it had to cope with, she'd clashed with almost all of the heads of department at some point and the number of coffee cups she had spilled over important documents was increasing by the hour. But there was good news, at last- they would finish the audit by tomorrow night. She had accepted that she would be saddled with a lot of work at the last minute, but she could cope with that if it meant that the AC was off her back, and she actually had a chance of getting a weekend to relax. She clung to this idea as five o clock passed, and she sighed, knowing that she would have to stay at the office well into the evening. She completed checking over another box of papers, and pushed it to the side of the room. The end was in sight.


	3. Chapter 3

**_A/N: Here's the final chapter, hoped you've enjoyed this little story. Apologies for the abrupt end by the way- I have a case-based sequel planned which is set just after this story finishes._**

_Friday_

_Ten p.m_

It was a long time since she had stayed at work this late. One thing she was thankful to the boys for was making her less of a workaholic: she'd often been known to stay at the office until past midnight when she was a DC, reading through case files again and again in the futile hope that she would recognise something they'd missed as a team, perhaps a phrase that merely implied something, two events that at first glance weren't connected but were upon reading between the lines, anything that would make her stand out for promotion in the patriarchal environment of the Met in the eighties.

Yet that had been thirty years ago, and she really was getting too old to be sat on the floor in an office that didn't even belong to her, surrounded by a sea of paperwork and files. Surely Strickland would be back by now? He should be here sorting all this out, it was his job wasn't it? She should be in the pub getting drunk after a bloody long week. Christ, she would kill for a glass of white wine right now. Her back was aching in protest from sitting on the floor for the past two hours and the office was getting stuffy despite its size. But the _best_ thing was that she hadn't even finished sorting out the paperwork that she was meant to do, never mind actually start it.

She sighed, tilting her head back to the ceiling in prayer that some kind of miracle would happen and water would pour from the ceiling, destroying the thousands of sheets of paper that were the utter bane of her life at the moment. When this didn't work, albeit expectedly, she lied down on her side, drawing her legs up to her chest in a foetal position. She snorted ironically. Detective Superintendent Sandra Pullman, known throughout the Met for being able to take down even the hardiest of criminals with a mere look, defeated by a few sheets of paper.

"I thought I might find you here," a gently amused voice came from the doorway, making her tense instinctively. She sat up, frantically combing her hair that was slightly ruffled on one side where it had been in contact with the cold floor, mentally cursing the day she was born as she hesitantly turned her head around to see the smirking DAC stood behind her, barely able to maintain a straight face as he watched her get to her feet, almost slipping on a loose sheet of A4 as she did so.

"You look like you could do with this," he said, walking towards to her with a bottle of white wine and two wine flutes in his hands.

"How did you know?"

"That you'd be here?" he clarified. "I'm here myself on the Friday night of audit week, every year. Each time I think that I'll manage to get it finished beforehand but it never pans out how I'd hoped."

"I hate to say this but I really underestimated just how difficult this would be. It just makes me angry how I could have got all this finished if only everyone else had got their act together."

"Welcome to my life," he said darkly as he poured the wine into the glasses on his desk. "Constant pressure from upstairs and constant mess from downstairs. Anyway, cheers."

She smiled softly as he handed her the much-needed drink. She moved to perch on the side of the desk and downed the drink in one go, putting the empty glass on the surface beside her. He looked on, half unnerved and half impressed.

"Refill?"

She chuckled. "Please. That's good stuff, I hope it wasn't too expensive?"

"It was a little pricey, but you deserve it after the week you've had."

"Thank you, I really appreciate it, honestly. Next year, I'm going to make sure the boys and I get our audit done as fast as possible. I never realised how much our pratting around impacts on you, I'm sorry. I really did underestimate just how difficult your job is." She looked him in the eyes, blue on blue, before he looked away almost instantly.

"It's fine, don't worry about it. I'd rather you took your time and did a thorough job than did it quickly with errors. And it's not that bad, generally. Admittedly this week is an absolute nightmare but it's all part of the job."

"Don't you get bored?" she asked frankly. "All this…" she gestured to the paper enclosing the desk like it was a small island in a sea of white water.

"Of course, sometimes. A lot of the time, actually. But what you do, it's not for me. I'm better at this kind of thing, the administration and bureaucracy."

"Why do you think that?"

"I know it. I'm just not cut out for the front line. Maybe I was when I was younger, but not now."

"I think that you're lying to yourself. I think that your ex wanted you to climb up the greasy pole for money and status but now that you're divorced you're stuck here and you're too scared to get out, back on the streets where you want to be."

A uncomfortable silence fell as he lifted his eyes to her, holding her gaze for the first time that night.

"Sorry, sir, that was…uncalled for. And too personal. I should get on with this." She moved off the desk quickly, relieved to put her back towards him and break the eye contact that had developed between them as she kneeled on the floor, picking up random papers in an effort to pretend she was doing something.

"No." He finally replied. "You're right."

Slowly, she turned to face him, looking up at him from her position on the floor. He stood up equally as slowly, moving to kneel beside her and joining her in gathering up the papers, although he was actually putting them in order.

"I do want to be back on the streets, like you said. But sometimes I even doubt that. It's pathetic, but she had such a strong hold over me that she still controls me, even now, years later."

"Do you still love her?"

"No," he said certainly. "But I love my kids, and she's the only way to get to them. I guess I think that if I carry on living my life the way she wanted me to, then maybe she'll let me see them more often."

"Has it worked?"

"No."

"Then maybe it's time to do what _you_ want. You never know, if she sees once and for all that you've moved on, maybe that will persuade her to let you see them more often. When was the last time you saw them?"

"Last Christmas, just for half an hour."

"Well there's your answer. I don't know much about your situation, but I can see that you're not happy, and I know that you can't go on sacrificing your own happiness forever. It's not fair on you."

"You're probably right," he admitted, avoiding her eyes.

"I'm quite perceptive about other people's relationships, but unfortunately not about my own," she smiled softly, reaching for her wine glass and taking a long sip as he gathered the last of the papers.

"Aren't we all? Listen, you should go home, I'll get all this sorted out and submit it in the morning."

"No, honestly, I should do it. It's my job."

"It would have been my job if that volcano hadn't erupted and decided to spread its ash all over Europe. I insist."

"Alright. I must admit, I'm worn out. Call me if you need any help though, there is quite a lot that needs doing," she smiled, taking his proffered hand as she got up from the floor, her knees aching.

"Okay. Thank you for covering this week, Sandra, I really appreciate it. If there's ever anything I can do, just ask. I owe you."

She nodded. "Just think about what I said."


End file.
